Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein” Offers a Visceral, Though Imperfect, Reimagining of a Classic
Netflix’s adaptation of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” arriving in limited theaters and streaming November 7, is not a faithful retelling, but rather a compelling interpretation by one of cinema’s most visionary directors, Guillermo del Toro. While it may not be his best work, the film successfully navigates the challenge of adapting a frequently attempted story, delivering a visually stunning and emotionally resonant experience.
The film delves into universal themes of creation, family, and the nature of monstrosity. As one critic noted, it’s “a story about stories, about fathers and sons, innocents and monsters, and the madness of creation.” Del Toro, a lifelong fan of the monster genre – his passion ignited by the Boris Karloff film and Shelley’s original novel – presents a “Frankenstein” that is both haunting and beautiful.
Del Toro’s approach diverges from Shelley’s complexities, portraying the creature as an innocent, driven by childlike impulses. While possessing superhuman strength – a trait that makes him a formidable threat, capable of gruesome acts like skinning and dismemberment – his rage stems from a place of vulnerability. This interpretation, while simplifying the character, allows for a poignant exploration of abandonment and the search for acceptance.
The narrative unfolds through the perspectives of both Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) and his creation (Jacob Elordi), though the film isn’t entirely impartial. Isaac delivers a captivating performance as the brilliant, self-centered scientist, consumed by a desire to surpass his father and conquer death. He finds tenderness only for his brother, William (Felix Kammerer), and William’s fiancée, Elizabeth (Mia Goth). Goth, in particular, shines, imbuing Elizabeth with a sharp wit that challenges the traditional nurturing archetype.
The film utilizes a recurring motif of parental figures – or the lack thereof – with Mia Goth representing a maternal presence in both Victor and the creature’s lives. According to del Toro, both men are “doomed” by the failings of their fathers and the inability of mothers to protect them.
Elordi portrays the creature as a sensitive soul, tormented by his existence. His gentleness is constantly at odds with his primal survival instincts, creating a compelling internal conflict. Abandoned by Victor, who deems him “stupid,” the creature embarks on a journey of self-discovery, encountering both cruelty and kindness – notably from a blind old man (David Bradley) who recognizes his inherent goodness.
Visually, “Frankenstein” is a triumph. Del Toro and his collaborators have crafted a lavish, Gothic world, from Victor’s opulent estate to the decaying irrigation plant that serves as his laboratory. The costumes, overseen by Kate Hawley, are breathtakingly detailed, and Alexandre Desplat’s score amplifies the film’s emotional weight.
However, the film’s ambition sometimes overwhelms it. At 149 minutes, it feels expansive, compressing a lifetime of themes into a single viewing. The narrative, while compelling, occasionally feels overly explained. Despite these minor flaws, “Frankenstein” remains a valuable addition to the canon, a testament to del Toro’s artistry and a poignant exploration of the human condition.
Rated R for “bloody violence, gruesome images,” “Frankenstein” is a film that lingers long after the credits roll, prompting reflection on empathy, anguish, and the enduring power of storytelling. It earns a rating of three and a half out of four stars.
Keep reading
- Why Your Movie's Showtime Isn't When It Starts (daybreakwire.com)
